A Place for You
by theglamourfades
Summary: There was always a place for a man like him.


**A/N: The first scene of this is something that I've wanted to write for a little while now. With S6 being the last series, I thought now was a good time to go back to the very start, as well as the end (so far). No spoilers (unless you haven't seen 1.1 or S5 CS, which is probably unlikely) or speculation.**

 **Downton Abbey doesn't belong to me.**

* * *

 _A Place for You_

The knock rapping against the door seemed to come earlier that morning, and if she wasn't mistaken, it sounded louder and more persistent too. Though she had been awake for some time, Anna mourned it. She wondered briefly whether she would ever get her wish; to sleep until she woke up natural.

Letting out a small and very quiet sigh she turned to lie on her side, watching Gwen as she struggled to wake up in the next bed. Neither of them particularly relished the early starts but Gwen always managed to be at least sitting up before she did.

Her mind was quite lucid, and she found there the same thought she had been troubling over all night inbetween her broken sleep.

Perhaps she would feel better knowing that Mr Bates had another position to go to; that he wasn't being cast out to wander aimless. She was thinking to the extreme, feeling somewhat guilty. She had the utmost faith in his capabilities, and his manner was finer than any man she had ever come across. He would probably be far happier somewhere else, away from those who had treated him so poorly, given a proper chance to show his worth.

It was rather strange, but she found herself wishing for his future happiness more than her own.

As she unwound herself from the covers, the small, half-drunk glass of water at the side of the bed reminded her of the tray she had made up for him. She found herself smiling, despite the heaviness that grew and vined around her feet as she padded about the room.

She had worried a little on her way taking it to him. They had talked enough about other things for him to know that she didn't pity him, not in the slightest. Still, he might have been affronted, or worse still, embarrassed by the display. As she had walked down the corridor she decided that she didn't regret. The only thing she regretted was his going, and that he had escaped so much kindness in his time there.

She knew she would never forget that look in his eyes for the rest of her days, as he opened the door to her. It seemed to tell her that he had hardly been shown any kindness in his life.

In the same moment, she couldn't imagine it could possibly be right. Not when he was so humble and gracious, and his eyes were so full of gentleness...

She touched the back of her hand to her cheek, hoping it would banish the rush of heat that had risen there. There was no use of that, and there wouldn't have been regardless.

He had smiled at her, and she had never felt so foreign and yet so comfortable in her own skin.

A noise of a bird outside the window startled her and then Gwen roused, much quicker than she had, up on her feet within minutes. She would never understand how that could be possible. Gwen was quieter that morning, as though she could tell without knowing that something was bothering her. If she did know, she didn't say, and they chatted while they got ready for the day – Anna doing so partly out of a need to be distracted.

It worked for the most part, though the thoughts lingered in her mind, these ones a little more hopeful as they approached the servants' hall, the aromas of breakfast settled within.

He wasn't at the table, and though she expected it to be the case she was still dejected. She couldn't really blame him. If it was her, she wouldn't have wanted to spend her last hour or so feeling awkward, hearing false platitudes.

They had said their goodbyes last night, and she would always cherish the short friendship they shared. It wouldn't be gone; he did promise to write, after all. Anna was quite certain that Mr Bates would only ever break a promise if all power was taken out of his hands.

She rose promptly when the bell from Lady Mary's room rang, and smiled and nodded at Mrs Hughes when the housekeeper looked at her with a touch of concern. Mrs Hughes could read hours, even minutes, of sleep on any of their faces, and Anna prepared herself for a well-meaning but somewhat stern address later on in the day.

For now, the morning had to be spent wisely, before she was tempted to do something very stupid indeed.

It was a good job she had been more diligent than usual; Lady Mary had announced her intentions to go out riding that afternoon, and Anna set about taking out the jacket, waistcoat, shirt and trousers whilst arranging an outfit for the morning, as well as putting aside the black dresses to be laundered once she had finished. While Lady Edith had been reluctant to get back into colours again, Lady Mary was quite the opposite, picking out a blue blouse and skirt that Anna thought almost too bright for the period of half-mourning.

"You seem very quiet this morning, Anna," she commented while Anna struggled to set a strand of hair securely beneath a pin.

"It's nothing, m'lady," Anna replied. "I just had a bit of a restless night's sleep, that's all."

"Burning the candle at both ends," Lady Mary smiled a little wryly. Anna shook her head as she obscured the view in the mirror for a few moments, fixing the front of Lady Mary's hair into place. "I feel as though I've been doing the same lately. But now I needn't bother, not until the next one arrives anyway."

Anna knew what was meant, and though their lives were worlds apart she didn't need to go very far to feel Lady Mary's listlessness quite accurately. Things had clearly not gone to plan with the Duke. She was in no place to speak, but she was glad of that. It made little sense to her the way it all had to be done, an emotion as very important as love crafted from thin air. She smiled without saying anything, handing the first earring into Lady Mary's palm. Perhaps the next one would be the last, so long as Lady Mary was happy at the end of it.

"And now Papa must find someone else, too," she said casually, tipping her head to the mirror that was clear once again. "The upheaval will be hard on him. He doesn't do well with change."

Her back had straightened to a rod. "No, m'lady. Not many people do."

"How is the mood downstairs?"

"Much the same as any other day, really." As Lady Mary stood, Anna broke her stance to adjust the pleats of the flowing skirt. "In fact, I think most people are glad that Mr Bates is going."

 _Including you,_ she thought to herself, glad that she was avoiding Lady Mary's gaze by sheer nature of fate. She wouldn't dare give voice to the bitterness she felt, briefly. But Lady Mary's opinions about her father's new valet had been made quite plain, mainly by her lack of them.

"But not you?"

It appeared to be more of a statement than a question.

"No, m'lady," Anna responded, exhaling a carefully held breath. "I've found Mr Bates to be polite and hardworking and, well, just nice, simply. Like a breath of fresh air."

She hoped she hadn't spoken out of turn – it wasn't for her to be making any kind of appeal, and she wouldn't likely succeed anyway. Lady Mary stared fixedly at her, and to Anna's surprise, a small and slightly sombre smile came onto her face.

"Bates did his duties well, and he was very fair to put up with things he didn't need to." She went quiet for a moment, causing Anna to wonder. Their eyes met suddenly and she snapped back, matching Lady's Mary's outwardly calm demeanour. "It's a shame that he should have to go, but he can do so with head held high. Which is something I suspect isn't quite true for everyone."

Anna couldn't help a small smirk at the raise of Lady Mary's eyebrows. "I couldn't possibly say."

"Or rather you won't," Lady Mary corrected. "I do wish I had your morals, Anna."

"You have your own, m'lady, and they stand you in good stead." She gave a smile. "Will that be all?"

"Until later. I'm sure my head will be clearer once I've ridden."

Anna nodded, gathering up the various items into her arms. The boots were downstairs and it would take her up until just before luncheon to clean them. Even if she was finished before then, she was quite certain that she could find something else to occupy herself.

She felt a little out of breath by the time she put the brush down. Lady Mary's riding boots looked as good as though they had been newly purchased. She sat back on the stool, allowing herself a moment of pride in her work. Breathing through her mouth to avoid the smell of polish that had stuck to the sleeves of her dress quite enough, she stood to remove her apron and put the cleaning things away.

Her hands felt dry and her mouth even more so; she had more than earned the cup of tea that was ahead, and hopefully Gwen or one or two of the other maids would be in the hall. She had only seen anyone all morning in passing as she had dashed quite purposely between her tasks, and she felt rather foolish for it now. She liked having company, and while her spirits weren't quite properly renewed she was certain that she could manage a somewhat carefree conversation with someone. If it turned out to be Miss O'Brien or Thomas then she doubted she would be able to hold her tongue, but perhaps that would be a good thing too.

Leaving the boots in hold, she made her way along to the hall, looking forward to the chance to rest for a few minutes.

When she got there, she could have dropped to the floor. Surely the fumes from the boot polish hadn't affected her that much. Otherwise she was certain she had slipped into some kind of dream or trance.

It was Mr Bates. As plain as day, it was him, in front of her eyes.

He had been sitting but he got to his feet on the moment he saw her enter the room. Anna felt a little awkward but she was incredibly endeared by it too, and she wasn't sure what she should do in return.

Oh, she was ever so glad to see him.

His eyes wouldn't leave her, seemed to draw her closer to him every moment even though they were separated by the table and row of chairs on her side. The smile plastered on her face must have been so very strange, but he didn't speak to mention it or even change the way he looked at her.

He was smiling at her, too. Not quite the same smile he had shown hours previous, but in truth she thought she liked this one even better. She knew she did.

A small laugh left her before she had the chance to pull it back.

She was just so happy; so much that she couldn't explain it.

"I thought you had left by now," she managed to say, in all of her disbelief.

What if Lord Grantham had said he could stay just for the morning, or another singular day? Perhaps it would only be until another valet had been found. She hoped with all of her heart not; she didn't want to have another morning like this one just gone, pushing her emotions down, as peculiar as they were.

"It turns out his Lordship had a change of heart. Quite a hasty one."

The breath she was holding was released happily.

He looked rather uncertain. "Though I'm not sure that I'm deserving of it."

"Don't be daft," she blurted, feeling the blush creep up from her neck and rising out of the collar of her dress. "Of course you are."

He gave another smile to her, a little bigger than the last. It made his eyes crinkle in soft lines and made her stomach flutter in a way she wasn't used to.

"It's wonderful news that you're staying, Mr Bates," she said with a smile that she hoped was good enough to match his own. "Truly, it is."

"Thank you."

He remained standing stoic and firm, but the way his voice shook a little showed what he felt. Anna's heart stuttered and she felt a small sting at the corners of her eyes. He would be a tough nut to crack, but at least he would be around for longer than she had expected. Time was one of the best things to have on your side.

There was a cup and saucer laying on the table in front of him, and suddenly she felt a renewed sense of purpose, having let herself be held for quite some moments.

"I should be making one for you," he echoed after her as she collected the cup, walking around to refill the teapot.

"Nonsense," she glanced over her shoulder towards him, the water splashing against her sleeves. Her breath caught in shock, and she found herself laughing a few seconds later – even if she was a bit drenched, it was worth it. "There'll be plenty of time, now that you're not going anywhere."

He accepted her reasoning with a smile, as he did the tea that she prepared quite quickly but with no less care. She took the seat next to him and couldn't help but think how natural it felt. Familiar, like a belonging that she had never really known before. He was keenly looking at the way she sipped from her own cup, but she didn't mind in the slightest. She welcomed it. Already there was an understanding between them, a trust. Though she got on well with most people, she didn't feel an affinity so soon. Maybe it had been strengthened by his unexpected return.

She noticed the light that fell through into the room bring another colour to his eyes, and she felt quite warm inside.

"So I take it that I was the last one to know?" she asked him, a gentle teasing in her tone. "That doesn't seem very fair."

"I looked for you, but Mrs Hughes said you were quite busy, with one thing and another, and I didn't want to interrupt."

She wouldn't have minded one bit if he had stopped her from doing everything. In hindsight it was probably better that she stumbled upon him. It was the nicest surprise she thought she had ever got.

"I hope you don't mind," he went on, and if she didn't like to hear his voice so much she would have told him off again.

"Not at all," she smiled in response.

He paused for a few moments, his thumb edging the saucer.

"But you were the first to care," he said, very soft.

She nearly hadn't believed he had said anything until he raised his eyes to look at her. They reached so far into her own, and within she found all he had felt. His loneliness and graciousness. She didn't need to be thanked by him – having come to known him was quite enough of a reward if she should need one – but then she saw how much it had meant to him.

Maybe it was because they were alone, but she felt compelled. Building up courage she reached her hand over towards where his lay, grasping her fingers around it. The touch was small and swift, but it was enough to set sparks within her.

He had started a little; she felt it in the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers.

Afterwards, he smiled at her again.

She held the memory in her mind for the rest of the day, when they were joined by everyone else for dinner. She sensed as she looked at him that he still felt like an outsider looking in, with Thomas and Miss O'Brien glaring at him. He did more than his best to ignore them, finding her eyes as often as he was able instead and together they shared smiles and thoughts that knew better.

There was a place for him, and she was very happy that it was here.

* * *

The door closed behind them, secure on its lock. For the first time in months John felt relief take root in him and he breathed easier now, breathing in the familiar scents that lingered within these walls. Comfort came to greet him, offered him another welcome.

He was clothed in the sweet smell of her, the lightly-perfumed soap she had no doubt received as an early Christmas present or otherwise because the family recognised she needed pampering. He hadn't been able to help nuzzling against her neck as he pressed her to him, wrapped in his arms. He never wanted to let her go.

She had shared his feeling, her small hands clutching onto him. He had never been touched so reverently, and though he promised himself that he wouldn't cry – not at this moment that had been longed for through every dark night of their separation – tears of sheer amazement filled his eyes at the same time as they cherished her. She was smiling through her own tears, beatific and beautiful. The thought of bearing witness to that smile once again had been what had kept him going throughout it all, but now he knew that he hadn't been truly prepared for it.

She murmured through catching breaths and small kisses that she would need to say something. She would go and seek out Mrs Hughes for a quiet word, just to put minds at rest when they couldn't find her after the celebrations. He was reluctant, uncertain that he would be able to stop holding her for any point through this night at least. His fingers twisted with hers, the strong and warm band of metal on her finger kissing the curve of his palm, reminding him of everything. He said he would go with her. She shook her head with a haze of a smile and pressed her other hand lightly against his chest. She wanted him to herself – the shiver ran through his body – and they both knew that wouldn't happen if the whole house was aware of his return.

He heard the desperation in her voice, turning her words into a plea. Their joy would win in the end, but it was too much to ask that the sorrow would be erased so swiftly.

The months faded as he walked with her on the road home, the light from the stars above more than enough to guide them. Her hand circled within his did that through any light or darkness. He couldn't have forgotten about the life he had been living up until only a day ago, but the only reason he remembered was because of her. The pain of being away from Anna had ravaged him more than war and all of the battles that came afterward.

He had lived for her, but living without her had left him broken.

He glanced around, feeling himself tremble from his soul. His body was worn out but the smile on his face couldn't be stopped. Nothing had changed. Not a thing was out of its place, and it was almost like he had been there that morning, winter chill wound back in time and replaced with summer's warmth. He swallowed the lump in his throat – it wouldn't do to dwell or think too much on the time that had been taken from their lives.

They were together now, and that was what mattered. All that ever mattered.

He looked for her and found her, healed by her touch, her hand moving from his arm to his chest to his neck. God, he had yearned for her. It had been enough to know that she was safe, he had told himself, but he knew better now.

He wanted to be the one to heal her, now that he was able once more. She had shown so much strength and he hadn't doubted that she had drawn from her reserves to go on while he wasn't there. He would take over gladly. He had thought of nothing else.

Love was the promise he could keep for her.

She smiled as his hand stroked her face again, his fingertips touching her temple and edging the silk of her hair.

"I should give you a proper welcome," she said hastily and almost breathless, her hands leaving him suddenly. He followed her gaze as it darted towards the door, sensed her quiet agitation.

"You're all I need," he uttered quietly.

Gently he reached for her wrists, stilling her arms by her sides. He could hear her breathing regulate and then catch just for a moment as he caressed the curves of her hands. Her palms opened up and he took his time tracing his fingers over each of the lines there, wearing a small smile recognising her strong and unbroken life line.

She watched him for every second, smiling at his soft touches and taking him by pleasant surprise when she caught his fingers with her own mid-movement.

"I know we'll talk tomorrow, or another day," – he smiled at her distinction; he wanted to ensure that she had the happiest Christmas they could have – "but you'll tell me one thing, else I won't be able to rest."

He wasn't sure how he could, not now he had her in his arms again.

"Anything."

She held her breath, looking at him for a long moment before she asked.

"You are safe, aren't you?" Her voice trembled, and he had to place his hands upon her arms on instinct to soothe her. "You wouldn't have come otherwise, not just for my sake. Because as much as I want you here with me, I would rather know you were safe, truly. Wherever that may be."

She sounded close to tears again, and it caused his throat to ache. He had been feeling himself waver before he had received word, and he had been very lucky that he was able to get back in time. He certainly understood how it seemed almost unbelievable, and the truth was that they didn't quite know what to think anymore. When he looked at her, everything made sense.

"God knows that I wanted to be with you for every second of every day," he answered honestly, watching her expression shift and her lower lip shake. "But I wouldn't risk anything else. Yes, I am safe. I swear that."

As tears streamed down her cheek, she broke into the biggest smile he had seen all night.

"You don't need to swear it," she choked, drawing herself closer to him.

But he did.

"My love," he whispered to the top of her head as she pressed it firm against his chest, his arms around her just as fast as hers were circled about him. He dipped, kissing her hair and closing his eyes, thinking of how long he had dreamed about doing such a simple and wonderful thing again. "Oh, my love."

They stood in the middle of their front room for a good while, holding each other and whispering love, hugging tight. Anna was the one to pull upon his hand with a smile that he read quickly, and he let her take him along happily up the stairs, enlivened and utterly in love with her boldness as much as her chaste kisses.

Every moment of the night was lived so thoroughly between them and he grounded himself within each one, but it was hard not to look ahead too. When they lay together, her head centred on his bare chest and their hands entwined beneath the bedcovers, he thought of Christmas and the year that was to come. Late evenings by the fire and bouts of morning kisses to awaken them both, winter turning to spring. Trails of crumbs he would leave on the floors as he went about eating biscuits, the hot water that she would use up by taking long baths and the times he would ask to join her.

She ran her hand over his jaw, accusing him of brooding. He answered that he was only doing so about her, and her loose hair tickled against his face as they both smiled, the kiss they shared bringing him home yet again.

His place had always been with her, and there was nothing in the world that could change that.


End file.
